Never Far Behind
by SiriusDancer
Summary: Arthur thought he had left his past behind him. He thought that he had finally escaped the darkness. Strange how one word was enough to send him spiraling back down the abyss. A look into Arthur and Eames' past. NO SLASH. T just to be safe, though there is some language.
1. Chapter 1

**Cobb -**

Dom didn't know Arthur's last name for a very long time. They had met when Dom was 28, and Arthur was 22. After he had worked several jobs with the younger man, he had of course asked, but Arthur had just shrugged, took a sip of his coffee, and told him that it was unimportant. It soon became apparent, however, that none of Arthur's past was important. When they shared a dream space, it was always a place not based on anything in the real world. Everything about Arthur was a mystery except his age and first name. It wasn't until Mal had brought Eames in four years later that they gleaned a bit of his backstory.

҉҉҉҉҉҉

From the moment Eames walked into the small office, there was a shift in the Cobb's Point Man. He became quieter (if that was even possible); the tap, tap, tapping on his keyboard slowed to a halt. Because of this, Eames didn't seem to register Arthur's presence as he strutted up to Cobb.

"I hope you don't mind that I let myself in. I thought it would be a good presentation of the multitudes of skills I possess. I'm the Forger Mal invited along on this merry trip," Eames stated, sticking out a large calloused hand. "Mr. Eames. No first name,"

"Dom Cobb," the Extractor said, hesitantly reaching out his own hand.

"And just where, Dom, _is_ your lovely wife?"

"She should be along any minu—there she is! Mal, look who made it," Dom greeted his wife while indicating Eames. She kissed her husband and then turned to look the broad British man up and down.

"Eames; it's so good to see you and your appropriately hideous clothing," she said fondly, waltzing over to hug the Forger.

"Mal, always a joy to see you," the Forger replied with a smile and hug of his own. "Last I heard you now have not only the best Extractor but also the best Point Man in the business now. Lucky you, darling."

Mal laughed, hitting the Forger lightly on the arm before Dom moved forward. "Yes, this is our partner and Point Man, Arthur."

Eames turned, finally noticing that there was a fourth person in the room, and stopped dead. His wide grin vanished. The colored drained from his face, and all mirth left his eyes. Mal and Dom confusedly looked to see what had upset the cheerful man, only to find Arthur standing at military attention, a faraway look on his face. Eames spun back to face the couple. The thinly veiled worry lining the Forger's face spoke of more sincerity than Cobb had previously thought this Mr. Eames capable of.

"You failed to mention that your new Point was Arthur Darling, Mal."

Mal looked taken aback at the harsh tone in the normally easy going British man's voice. Realizing that his wife had no response, Dom immediately came to her defense.

"We didn't exactly have a last name; we also didn't know that you two knew each other," he admitted as Mal left his side. She walked up to the youngest, who still stood rigid, seemingly oblivious to the present situation.

Eames sighed as he watched Mal try to get through to the Point Man._ Arthur has clocked out completely, _he thought somewhat worriedly. He hadn't seen Arthur this bad in a very long time, since far before they had parted ways four years ago.

"Yes, we do know each other, very well in fact." Eames moved away from Dom. "Mal, darling, just leave him to me. You're never going to be able to get him out of this."

"And you do?" Dom asked skeptically. He gestured agitatedly to Arthur. "What even is this?"

"Of course I know how to handle this. It's called conditioning." Eames nodded to Arthur. "I take it this has never happened around you before?"

Dom looked at Eames in surprise. "No. You mean this is a recurring thing?"

"Yes," Eames replied simply. "Now, please, Mal, dear, take your husband, and go. I can take care of Arthur." Eames was eager to get them out; the longer Arthur sat, the farther he would check out of reality.

After assuring Mal and Dom that he could indeed handle their young Point Man, Eames all but threw the very confused and worried couple out of the room. He then made sure the door was shut tightly; he was positive Arthur would be embarrassed that he had exposed this weakness to what were apparently his long-standing coworkers. _And wasn't that a surprise, _thought Eames cynically_, Arthur found people he trusted for more than a year._ As much as Eames was honestly a bit hurt that Arthur had stuck with the couple longer than he had stuck with Eames, _who had bloody saved his skinny ass, _he could tell that Mal and Cobb were truly concerned for the younger man. In fact, he had no doubt about their care for what was essentially _his_ kid brother. He would put money on the fact that they were most likely listening on the other side of the closed door right now.

Sighing, he turned back to face the practically catatonic Arthur, wondering where to start. He had used different methods in the past. He wasn't sure how bad the attack would be until he actually started to help Arthur. Any way one cut it, this would be difficult. Dredging up memories of the most painful times in one's life often was. He had an advantage though. He knew exactly where Arthur was right now. Walking up to the Point Man slowly, he tried to gather his own emotions before he stopped in front of the younger man. He guessed he would start soft.

"Arthur can you hear me? It's Eames. You're not there anymore; do you remember?" Getting no reaction, Eames tried tapping the Point Man's pale cheek. "C'mon, luv, I know you're in there."

Eames kept trying to cajole Arthur out of his memories for a few moments. Seeing it wasn't working, however, Eames paced away to think. He had hoped that Arthur would come back with less effort, but it looked like luck would not be on his side today. And while he really, _really_ didn't want to revisit his own military time, he supposed to only be there for a few minutes would be the only way to bring the Point Man back to reality. Sighing again, he squared his own shoulders and paced back over to Arthur.

"At ease, Darling." His voice came out hard and demanding. Surprising, wasn't it, how easy it was to slip into his old rank once again.

* * *

**_Hello, everyone! _**

**_This will be a six part story, and obviously I own nothing._**

**_Let me know about any comments/criticisms/suggestions you may have. I would love to hear whatever you have to say._**

**_Thanks for reading!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Help -**

It was a mindset that was so hard to escape. Arthur had been under the thumb of some of the most corrupt higher ups for almost three years. Obeying every order, testing every new drug, conditioned to respond to every beck and call of his name, it was enough to keep him up at night. He had been very successful at keeping his past at bay for the last four years. Eames had taught him beautifully to keep the pain, to keep the overwhelming feeling of being out of control, out of his head. Eames had protected him, had saved him. They had been extremely close after the first near death experience Eames had witnessed, even though it had been at least the tenth that _Arthur _had had. In the year that had followed their escape, Arthur had come to see Eames as a brother. Eames had guided him through many attacks. It had been such a trial every day in the beginning, and Arthur thought he had finally moved passed the darkness. He had left after a year, probably blindsiding Eames in the process. Strange how a simple word was enough to send him careening back into the abyss.

҉҉҉҉҉҉

From the moment Eames had stepped into the room, he could feel his ribcage tightening, iron bands threatening every breath he took. He had thought he could escape his past, but here Eames was, reminding him of everything he had worked so hard to put behind him. He had wanted to be his own person, and then, _then_, he heard his last name spoken in that familiar voice. His mind went blank.

While he wasn't aware, he knew exactly what would be happening. This had happened far too many times for him _not _to know. Arthur had been trained, and trained well, to respond to his last name spoken by a superior. It didn't matter which superior. His muscles would still lock up, forcing him to attention, head up, awaiting orders. Because that's what he been forced to do for three entire years.

҉҉҉҉҉҉

There was some background noise, almost like trying to hear through a waterfall. There was the feeling of a light tap on his face. A person too close to him, but Arthur wouldn't move. He would wait for orders; perhaps they were simply testing him. And just as he was beginning to wonder, come the orders did. Though "at ease" was the one he would never have expected, he followed, relaxing his posture slightly, settling back.

"Arthur? Are you with me now? Arthur, luv?" A voice kept calling out to him, a very familiar voice. Finally allowing his sight to return, Arthur looked down to see concerned blue eyes watching him. Eames was _here_; he would get Arthur out again. Arthur almost moved forward to grip the Forger's arm but remembered just in time that _they _could still be watching him. Panic rose in his chest.

"Eames! We need to leave. I don't know how we're here again!" Arthur's voice sounded panicked to his own ears. Something wasn't right. He looked to Eames. Eames needed to give him the order; Arthur couldn't move. "Eames, you have to let me leave! We need to get out of here. I can't go through this again!"

"No, no, luv, calm down. We aren't there anymore. Do you remember? We left a long time ago. We aren't there," Eames placated, voice comparatively quiet to the rising volume of Arthur's. He tried to step a bit closer to the Point Man.

"Stop," ordered Arthur, even though it wasn't his place to be giving orders. Still, Eames moved back. The Point Man looked so_ lost_. "I can't…sort this out. How are we here again, Eames? I thought we were done. I thought it was over."

"Arthur, _listen, _please. We aren't there anymore. We are done. I got us out; I got you out. We're at Dom and Mal's place, remember?" The Forger stood at a respectable distance, looking as if he was itching to get closer to Arthur.

"What?" Arthur turned down his brows in confusion, panic dampening slightly. "…but, I could've sworn…I was there. I was back, Eames."

Seeing Arthur calm a little, Eames reached out hesitantly, and when he received no protest, placed light hands on Arthur's shoulders. "Arthur, you trust me, correct?" he asked gently, squeezing. Arthur nodded tightly, still uncertain in everything except the fact that he _did_ trust Eames. After all, the older man had gotten him out the first time.

"Good, then trust me when I say that we aren't there anymore. It's okay to relax; they can't get to you, luv. We made sure of that. I got you away. You disappeared. They would never be able to find you now."

It looked like it was finally sinking in. Arthur glanced from the side to side, slowly gathering himself as he reaffirmed his grip on reality. Eames, seeing this, removed his hands and stepped back, making sure all the pieces of Arthur's consciousness were being put back in their correct spots. While Arthur appreciated the concern, it always bugged him when Eames watched him so closely after one of these attacks. It was like he thought Arthur was going to finally crack and misplace something in his own mind. The Point Man almost scoffed, would have if he wasn't so damn tired, so locked up. Eames saw that all, knew that all better than anyone. _Of course he did_, thought Arthur. _This must be the hundredth time that this has happened._ Arthur dipped his head down, thinking back to all the other times that the Forger had seen him this weak. It made him feel exposed, especially after he had left so abruptly those four years ago. Why was Eames even helping him? Wasn't he angry?

A hand brushed under his chin, lifting the pale face up, and Arthur saw understanding and reassurance hiding behind the wide grin. "Hey, you don't have to be worried. Brothers help brothers, no matter what. It's okay to relax now."

Arthur nodded shakily, knowing that while Eames was being the same old Eames, he still hadn't quite been forgiven. Sighing, he slowly unclenched tight muscles and winced at the pain of having stood so tensed for so long a period of time. The adrenaline cleared out of his body, and his knees buckled. It was okay though; Eames caught him up instantly, curving a muscled arm around Arthur's shoulders and tucking the younger man into his side. It was basically the same old routine, albeit one that had been disrupted for four years.

"Let's get you off your feet, shall we? Odd how easy it is to go back to this," Eames muttered, echoing Arthur's thoughts exactly, guiding Arthur to sit on the hard leather couch. It wasn't the comfiest, but it would have to do. Arthur again nodded closing his eyes, energy completely depleted. He felt the thump when Eames threw himself down on the other end of the couch. Then a hand was palming the side of his head, pushing it down to rest against a muscled thigh. His eyes snapped open, shocked, and started to pull away. The hand on his head exerted a bit more pressure.

"C'mon. I promise I don't bite," Eames laughed before catching the wary look in Arthur's eyes. "Honestly, luv, it's fine. You need to relax." Arthur relaxed slightly, knowing he could trust the older man but worried in the knowledge that he and said man had some issues to work out.

"Have you been taking your pills?" The Forger's voice questioned from above. Arthur sniffed.

"I don't need drugs to keep me normal, Eames," he answered sharply.

"I didn't say that, but they helped for a while."

"Maybe, but they don't react well with the compound the Cobbs use." Arthur desperately came up with an excuse in his tired state, deciding it sounded convincing enough.

"You shouldn't try to outlie someone who lies for a living," Eames stated disapprovingly. "I honestly don't know why I am helping you, Arthur." The comment startled Arthur, and he started to shift up once again. The steady hand was back settling him back down though.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's really okay, Arthur. I only meant that after you left, I was somewhat worried about how you would handle the real world, especially without yours trul –. Oi, watch it!" the Forger exclaimed when the Point Man reached up to smack his knee in retaliation for the comment. "Anyway, I must also say I was a bit angry that you left without even saying goodbye."

Arthur was convinced the Forger was leaving something out. Under the joking tone, he could hear the disguised hurt and concern in the Forger's voice. He patted the older man's knee again, albeit more gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly. He heard a sigh above him.

"It's alright, luv. All's forgiven. I'm glad to see you made it alright though I'm sorry that it had to be me to bring this all back," the Forger responded as he rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur relaxed, no longer worried about bad blood between he and his brother. Then a chuckle echoed above, breaking the tense atmosphere. "I must say that it was a surprise to see you in such a domestic place. I figured if I did see you again, it would be in box on the side of the road."

"Please Eames," Arthur scoffed, relieved to have everything back in balance, "we both know that was going to be your future. I mean, do you actually check a mirror before you go out in public. Only a homeless person would were such a terrible shirt."

Arthur's eyes had grown incredibly heavy by then, and he was too far gone then to hear whatever words the Forger had decided to retaliate with, not that he really cared anyway. He did, however, feel the hearty laugh move through the Forger's body and the large hand placed fondly in his slicked back hair. He fell asleep knowing his brother was watching over him.

҉҉҉҉҉҉

That day served as a reminder to both men that the past would never be far behind. They still had to be ready for anything. As the two grew familiar again, the banter from way back when was ramped up to a new extreme. As much as they enjoyed being able to work together again, they also had to refrain from killing each other almost daily. It was normal, for them anyway, and, from then on, Eames always made it a point to use 'darling' whenever talking to Arthur. Besides teasing Arthur, it was a subtle check to see that all was well, that Arthur was losing the need to freeze up completely. It was to help him heal. And slowly, as time went by, heal he did. He stopped reacting when the word was slipped in, and though Arthur would _never_ tell Eames, he was secretly pleased that the Forger cared as much as he used to. It wasn't like Eames didn't already know. Eames seemed to always know everything when it came to Arthur, a fact that drove him crazy. Everything was finally normal. Well, as normal as anything could be in the world of dreams.

**Hey everyone!**

**Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, favorite-ing.**

**As always, I would love to hear anything you have to say.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ariadne - /Five Years Later/After Inception **

Ariadne sat hunched over the latest maze designs. The team, sans Cobb, was working on an extraction to be done on a first time author. A former employer needed to know exactly what corporate, and possibly personal, details she planned on making public. So here Ariadne was, back in the addicting role of Architect. It was so easy to say 'yes' when Arthur had phoned inviting her in.

Speaking of Arthur, Ariadne glanced up to see the Point Man tapping away on his handy laptops. Since they had lost Cobb to his children, they (_"Dammit Eames, I know you mean me because I know you won't do it yourself!") _were scouring the market in search of a new Extractor. He and Eames had had an argument regarding what they needed in an Extractor. Time had been crunched; they were two weeks from when they were scheduled to perform the extraction. It had gotten heated quickly and ended only when Eames had yelled at Arthur. ("_Just find someone Arthur. I don't care what you have to drag them away from. Just get it done.") _The two hadn't spoken since. Eames had stood silently in the back as Arthur told the team that the replacement was on their way. He then refused to elaborate any further, returning to his disk a proceeding to dig up any last-minute details on the current target.

Distracted by said research, Arthur didn't look up when Ariadne stood, stretched, and made her way to their massive coffee maker. Grabbing a mug, she yawned and started filling it. She was startled mid-pour when a deep, accented voice echoed through the vacated office building that they were using as basecamp.

_"Darling!"_

Ariadne set down the pot, head lifting in the direction of the shout, brows furrowed. The endearment, which she had only ever heard in playful passing, was now yelled in a furious, _commanding_ tone. She turned back to Arthur, wondering if he knew why he seemed to be in such deep trouble (because it had to be him), only to find him standing at rigid attention. Head straight, shoulders squared, military precise, he could have been standing in front of a drill sergeant. And indeed, that seemed to be exactly what was going to be happening as Eames came thundering into the office.

"What were you thinking hiring her as the Extractor?" Eames strode over to place himself directly in front of the Point Man. Gone was the mirth that seemed to be constantly present in his eyes. They burned with an anger that went back years. Though it didn't seem to be directed at the Point Man, it was frightening in its intensity. His fists were clenched at his sides, and there were red splotches around his face and neck.

"She's the best I could get in on the job at such a short notice, Sir," Arthur replied, voice steady in the face of Eames wrath.

"And this is why you refused to give us any more information yesterday, correct?"

"Yessir."

"Why her?"

"We were running out of time. You said to find an Extractor, sir. I got it done"

Eames winced as his own volatile words were thrown back at him. "But why her? You know what she did." An almost plaintive note was starting to creep into the Forger's voice.

"I do, Sir. She was the best available. You told me to find someone, and I did."

Eames sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere. He would only get the same answers going in circles. He backed up a step. "At ease, Arthur. I'm sorry. Go back to work. I'm never going to get a decent explanation with you in this mindset."

Ariadne watched as he turned at stalked away, still stiff with anger but not as fired up as before. Now some of it looked almost internalized, like he felt guilty about lashing out at Arthur. She dragged her eyes off of Eames' retreating back to catch Arthur's. He held his gaze above her head as his muscles slowly unwound. It seemed to her that he was making a conscious effort to relax each one and get away from wherever he was not even ten seconds ago. Finally, his eyes snapped down to hers.

"Sorry about that." With a slightly trembling smirk, he turned around, sat down, and resumed his work without an explanation. What had just happened?

* * *

**_Hello Everyone!  
_**

**_Sorry this update is so short._**

**_I hope you enjoy, and as always, I love to hear what you have to say._**

**_Thanks for any favorites/follows/reviews!_**

**_Happy writing!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Questions - **

Asking Arthur anything resulted in monosyllabic answers that yielded no information. She left him to his work to find the Forger. Peeking into the adjacent offices, she found him chain smoking on a couch. Hesitating She stayed quiet, wondering if and how she should start. It was clearly a matter quite secret between the two, and she really didn't know if she would be able to get anything out of Eames.

"I'm assuming you have questions," He suddenly stated, startling her. Nevertheless, she was determined to get an explanation. Walking over, Ariadne set herself gently into the space on the opposite end of the couch, unsure if he was still angry.

"If you'll answer them, yes. I don't want to pry, but I can't deny that I _am _curious."

"I would think you would be after seeing that. Cobb and Mal certainly were."

"They knew?"

"Same thing happened in front of them some years back. What would you like to know, luv?"

"I don't know how to ask. What can you tell me?"

"In all honesty, I don't see you leaving the job anytime soon," he started, taking another drag of his cigarette. "I suppose the beginning is always the best place. Bear with me; it's a long story."

҉҉҉҉҉҉

"Dear Arthur and I were in the military together. I was higher up, of course, and had a few more privileges. One of those privileges was leading his unit. He and I bunked together until he started the DreamShare program about a year in."

"How long?" she queried.

"Four years total. Arthur lied about his age, got in early. He was in my unit for the first year. Then he was in DreamShare for the next three. I joined that right at the tail end of our service, but I'll get to that. First, about DreamShare: the DreamShare program was very new, extremely untested. They were looking for volunteers to try the compounds, to help them get it ready to mainstream in training."

"Yeah, I remember Arthur mentioning that. He said they used it so soldiers could practice combat on each other."

Eames nodded darkly. "See, but before that, they needed people to test it. Arthur jumped at it; let's just say his past was one he wanted to escape from. He was addicted to the first trials of the compound induced dreams. As Cobb said, you need it because it is pure creation. Well, when I came into the program, he was bad. They had him constantly going in and out of consciousness. It wasn't their fault; the idiot told them there were no effects, that he could keep going. So they turned a blind eye, let him continue.

"When he finally realized what it was doing to him, skewing his sense of reality, he tried to back out. They wouldn't let him," Eames glared down at the hand holding the smoldering butt of another smoke. "He had signed into the program. Arthur was very tightly controlled, watched extremely closely, for a very long time. Long enough that even now he sometimes goes back into that mindset, _Obey, follow orders_. It was simply ingrained, conditioned."

"After all of that, how did you get out?" Ariadne honestly couldn't believe what she was hearing even though it explained so much about the two.

"One day I came to training early, realized what they were putting him through. I got him out. We ran, and stuck together for about a year." he answered bitterly, lighting up another cigarette.

She fanned away the acrid smoke. "Then what?"

"He left. I moved to Mombasa and stayed there doing jobs until Cobb came to get me for the Fischer fiasco."

"I get the feeling that you're leaving something out, something big."

"Ah, but that's really not my part to share."

She nodded, respecting Arthur's privacy. She had, after all, just learned more about the Point Man in about five minutes than she had learned in all of the months spent working with him. "I guess I understand, but one last thing?"

"Hmm?" Eames was lost in thought, staring out the filthy window.

"Why 'darling'? Of all the words, why did that make him do that?"

"It's my last name," a sudden voice came from behind her.

* * *

**_Aloha everyone!_**

**_First off, thank you for all the reads, review, favorites, follows._**

**_Also, I want to apologize for the shortness of the chapters. I wrote the whole thing very connected but didn't want to post it as one giant thing._**

**_So this story has a few of my headcannons:_**

**_1. Arthur's last name being darling._**

**_2. Arthur and Eames were both military; it's where they_ met.**

_**So same as always, I love to hear anything you have to say.**_

_**Happy writing!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Next -**

Eames whipped around to see Arthur leaning in the doorway, looking almost as ragged as the day Eames had pulled the needle out of his bruised arm and dragged him out of the DreamShare program. There was that look of pain and exhaustion on his face, and damnit, Eames had promised, _sworn_, to protect him from feeling like that again. Eames moved to the door, ready to help because he had done this. Guilt hit him in the gut. _This was my fault_. Eames was pulled back into the conversation by Ariadne's gentle words.

"Are you okay?"

Arthur brushed Eames off and shuffled over to drop onto the ratty couch next to Ariadne. Eames could see the faint tremors running through his body. Arthur nodded once before bowing his head into his hands fingers rubbing at his temples. Ariadne looked over and caught Eames looking at the younger man with, dare he say it, concern and worry? It seemed, however, that Eames was almost wary to engage Arthur in any way.

"I enjoyed DreamShare at first; it was so addicting. But then, I was being used to test certain…methods in the dreams. Of course it was unorthodox to use us in the real world, but in the dream, we could always wake up if we died," began Arthur tiredly, surprising the two when he began to speak. "It was my twelfth or so time for this, though I had been under conditions close to it countless times before. This time it was suffocation tests. I, of course, had no choice in the matter. I woke up struggling for air. I remember thinking that reality was just as bad as the dream. Then I remember a sharp pain as Eames slid the needle out. He dragged me out of the room before our superior woke up. We ended up…_borrowing_ a car, and they never knew where we went after."

҉҉҉҉҉҉

_ They drove to an old abandoned airstrip. Eames knew a guy whose sister was married to the owner. He gently pulled Arthur from the car, dragging him into the back hatch of a small plane. There were a few words exchanged in what he vaguely recognized as Hungarian, and they were off. Arthur remembered shaking on a small bench in the back of the plane, mumbling hoarsely._

_ "We shouldn't have left. You should've left me. They're going to come after me, put me back in the program. Then they'll kill you."_

_ Then came the months after: constantly jumping at attention, his mind wandering off, not knowing if he was in reality or a dream. Every single time, Eames was there, hands wrapped around his face, whispering and consoling. He always wondered if Eames thought the same, however. Did Eames wish he had left Arthur? Honestly, if he'd had to make the same choice, he wasn't sure if _he _would have taken himself. Arthur tried to make the least trouble because he certainly knew that frequent attacks weren't normal and were, even at their least extreme, still very inconvenient. All doubts he had of Eames were erased after a few months of living together._

…

_One night, they went out celebrating their escape, finally sure that they had eradicated all their files. It was late, and both had been drinking excessively, their forged IDs providing just enough to cover their rounds. Eames outdrank him by more than a few. _Why doesn't _that_ surprise me?_ Arthur thought, chuckling quietly while he watched the cheerful man flirt with their waitress. Taking a sip of his Jack, he really was starting to wonder if his presence was really necessary any more. The scene was starting to wear on his not fragile, but close, nerves._

_Shouting his farewells over the blasting music, Arthur left, stumbling to their shitty flat. Walking home was only a short distance, but as he strolled down the road, it seemed to him that the road was stretching further and further. The darkness spawned fingers that wrapped themselves around his neck. Arthur, heart pounding in his chest, sprinted the rest of the way, slipping slightly on the uneven pavement. He slammed the door open, racing to the bathroom, and heaving all that he had drunk into the toilet. Leaning back heavily, he could feel the stiffness forcing its way into his muscles pulling him to his feet. Everything was going back. Panic settling into the back of his mind as the front blanked._

…

_Eames grinned charmingly at the waitress as she sauntered away. He turned to wink at Arthur, meeting only an empty seat. The grin fell off his face as he glanced around wondering where the younger man could have gone. As the waitress returned with a tall glass of…something, Eames asked her if she had seen him. _

"_He left."_

_And damn if those words send cold down Eames spine. He rose abruptly, telling the woman to charge everything. "I'm sorry, darling, I've got to be off." Out the door, down the road, Eames was never more glad that he had such a high alcohol tolerance. He wondered if Arthur had simply gone home or if he had decided something better was going on elsewhere. Deciding on home, he finished the short walk (run), skittering to halt in front of the very open front door. Fear rose in his gut. Had the military found them? No. They had been so sure they were untraceable. Then, what had happened?_

_Eames crouched slightly, stalking into the flat. "Arthur? Are you home?" Down the hall and to the left, the bathroom light was spilling into the hallway. "Couldn't handle your liquor, huh, Arthur?" The Forger couldn't hold back a laugh as he rounded the doorway. "Arthur…Arthur!"_

_Eames ran up to the unresponsive man, gently clasping the thin shoulders. "No, no, no, no, no, come on Arthur. Why didn't you get me to leave with you? Come on. Please don't do this." He felt guilt clench up in his gut. How long had Arthur been like this? _

_After a better part of an hour spent, Arthur finally relaxed. "Eames?" he looked around the bright room confusedly. "I thought you were still at the bar."_

"_No, I came home after realizing you left without informing me. And guess what? I found you, completely locked up. Why didn't you get me to come home, luv? You know I would've left."_

"_I tried. I'm sorry; it wasn't this bad when I left. I thought I was fine, okay? I didn't mean to ruin your evening." Drinking had really loosened Arthur's tongue. He knew he should be quiet now, but the words kept coming. "I really wasn't trying to ruin anything. I know I am in the way all the time. Maybe you should've just left me there. It would save you so much trouble. Real–" _

_Arthur was jerked forward as exhaustion halted his words. Arms wrapped around him when his knees gave out completely, one around his waist and the other settling across his shoulders. Eames voice came from above him as his head was tucked into a shoulder. Arthur was led out of the bathroom._

"_Shush, Arthur. You're an idiot. I'm the one who should be sorry for not realizing it was too soon to be going out." Eames led them to the couch in the living room. They had to be discreet in their spending and could only afford a one bedroom, so Arthur's bedroom was the living room. Arthur protested as he was deposited onto the cushions._

_ "No. You shouldn't have to worry about me."_

_ "Arthur, seriously, shut up. Let's get some things straight." Eames lifted Arthur's head up so he could settle on the end of the couch. He set the younger man back down, softly rubbing a hand down his back. "I would never have left you there. You were part of my team. You're my brother. I saw you when you woke up. You were so panicked Arthur; you were sick, luv. I don't regret, nor will I ever regret, dragging you away. They were torturing you."_

"_Bastards," came the weak reply. Silence. Then, so soft he barely heard it, "Thank you."_

_ Eames laughed. "Well, now that that's cleared up. Go to sleep because I can guarantee you are going to have the worst headache tomorrow."_

_ It all worked out. That night was the turning point. Arthur got better and better, and then he left. He couldn't do it anymore. The routine was starting to rub on Eames; he could tell. It wasn't his fault though. Arthur just knew it was what he had to do. He ran, and because goodbyes never sat well, he blindsided Eames. They never saw each other, until that fateful day four years later in the Cobb's office._

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Ariadne was amazed. Though _very _far from the full story, she felt an even greater sense of respect for the two men hovering about the room. Arthur still had his head down, and Eames, well, he had the most honest and open look of guilt and concern that she had ever seen. The Forger was always one to hide behind a smile, but looking at him now, one would never guess that this was the same man seen joking around every day. Well, she would just leave them to work it out.

She gently patted Arthur's arm and stood. She then looked to Eames and gave him a pointed look. Eames knew that look; she wanted him to suck it up, and talk to Arthur. He didn't know though where his relationship with the younger man stood. They had been as close as brothers right after the DreamShare incident, but now, now he couldn't tell if they were even friends, especially after everything he had hurled at Arthur about finding the Extractor. Nevertheless, he nodded, and she started towards the door. Eames grabbed her hand, whispering a quick "thanks" as she passed by.

Ariadne nodded, smiling gently, knowing this was a conversation that she had no part in. Closing the door behind her, she proceeded to step down the hall. Then as silently as she could, she padded back to the door, stopped, and knelt down. Just because she shouldn't be there, didn't mean she would miss out on learning something about the two men's confusing relationship. Peering through the keyhole, she watched as Eames stretched from his leaning position and slouched over to where the Point Man was resting on the couch. Arthur's head was still in his hands, and Eames tapped the side of his leg. "Move over."

҉҉҉҉҉҉

Settling down next to the younger man, Eames reached an arm over, strong fingers digging into the back of Arthur's neck and head. Arthur relaxed, leaning backward into the touch.

"Sorry about all that, luv." Arthur's head jerked up.

"What was that?" He asked incredulously.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I yelled. I know it's no excuse, but I was worried, am still worried, about what's going to happen with her on the job. I just, I wasn't' thinking."

"Damn right you weren't," Arthur griped, though still keeping his eyes closed. "You know, Eames. You know what that does to my brain. I felt so out of control again. I never wanted to feel that way again." Arthur dragged a hand down his tired face.

Eames dropped his hand off of Arthur's neck. "I really am sorry, Arthur. I shouldn't have used it against you. I know it, and I feel terrible about it. It was selfish, and I really could've fucked your mind up big time. Believe me when I say, luv, that I feel incredibly guilty about it."

"I get it. Honestly, I do. It was better this time. Eames what if it gets worse again? What if, especially since she's coming, it starts happening like it used to? What if it ends up the way you always worry it will, and I put my head back together wrong?" Arthur's breathing started to climb in rate as he rambled on and on. "What if—?"

Eames reached over, framing the Point Man's face with warm, calloused digits. "Arthur, look at me." The younger man's eyes continued to dart about, frantic. "Arthur," Eames tried again, a bit more determinedly, "I know you're worried, but I promise, I won't let any of that happen. You're safe, luv.

The Point Man knew the Forger was telling the truth. He leaned forward, pushing his head into the older man's shoulder. Eames reached up, one hand cradling Arthur's head, digging fingers back into the painful headache, the other arm circling Arthur's waist.

"I promise on my life. I won't let anything happen."

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_**Greetings everyone!**_

_**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows.**_

_**Arthur isn't angry about Ariadne knowing all this because like Eames, he realizes that Ariadne is now a part of the team permanently. **__**(Thank you, kamarooka)**_

_****__**Hope this chapter makes up for the two very short ones before this. It is the longest so far; I got a bit carried away. :)**_

_****__**As always, I love hearing anything anyone has to say. **_

_****__**Happy writing!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Figuring It Out**

It was strange to see the two men who bickered more than anyone else she knew act so…well, brotherly. She didn't know they were so close. She knew the two cared for each other, but never realized the extent of their friendship. Thinking back, she tried to remember any inclination that she had been given to what had occurred today. Suddenly, she recalled a brief conversation with Arthur shortly after the Inception job.

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_It was the slow part of the job, when she had nothing to do besides waiting for the actual extraction to start. So she had gone around trying to get to know her teammates just a bit better. Every advance was met with uncomfortable silence and then a suggestion that she should go bother the next person. She was brushed off several times and now stalked over to Arthur._

"_Everyone on this team is too damn secretive," Ariadne stated with a huff. _

_ "Well, that is part of our job description. Or maybe you're simply being too curious for your own good," Arthur had replied with his patented smirk._

_ "Well sorry that I didn't get the memo. Apparently anything other than 'what kind of takeout do you want for lunch?' is off limits." She threw herself into the chair by his desk. _

_ "If I allow you one question, will you _please_ leave me to my work? I had only just gotten rid of Eames before you strolled over." Arthur looked up from his laptop, settling an annoyed gaze on the Architect. Regardless, Ariadne knew that she had to make this count. One question only._ Hmmm.

_ "Tell me about your family," she simply stated._

_ "That's not a question. Sorry, your time is up." Arthur was feeling especially snarky today, and Eames followed by prying questions seemed to be setting him more on edge._

_ "No, no, no, come on Arthur." Ariadne quickly backtracked knowing that any family questions would probably make him lose his patience completely. "Fine, one question: what's the deal with you and Eames? I mean you guys act like you hate each other, but sometimes, like during the Fischer job, you aren't that bad."_

_ Arthur watched her, his head now resting on folded hands, until she finished speaking then chuckled slightly. "It's almost funny that you would ask about him instead of just rephrasing your family question."_

_ "What?" Ariadne tilted her head sideways, looking at Arthur confusedly. He was making absolutely no sense. Until it clicked. "You mean you and Eames _are_ family?"_

_ "As close to it as I've ever gotten." Arthur looked pensive for a second. He shook his head slightly. "Now, I have work to do, and I assume you can go ask questions elsewhere."_

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Family. She guessed the word certainly explained how Eames got under Arthur's skin so easily. It also helped make sense of the fact that Arthur was so well equipped to handle Eames' bullshit. They did seem to have that comradery that almost all brothers seem to possess. But it was something more than that. She knew that a relationship like that had to have been forged through something life threatening, and given what Eames and Arthur had just told her and what she had just been witness to, it seemed that is exactly what had to have had happened. She could remember times that were already telling her this, times she was only now starting to put together. Ariadne could have kicked herself. She had never truly realized everything except for now, in the context of what had just occurred. Her mind flashed back, remembering instances revealing that same brotherhood that, for her at least, finally stood in the open:

_Eames reaching a blood slicked hand out, and Arthur grasping it without hesitation after a job gone terribly wrong. Even after the Forger passed out, Arthur refused to leave the chair beside his bed until Eames had woken up._

_ Arthur having nightmares, even after days of using the PASIV, waking up coughing and gasping for air. Eames staying awake all night just to make sure that the Point Man was woken before they reached that point again._

_ The way the two worked together in the dream world. Knowing exactly what the other would be doing, where they would be going. Even Cobb, who had been living in the dream realm far longer than either of them, was never in sync with the two men. _

It made so much sense. She just had never seen it. Checking back in on the boys, she could see Arthur now laying with his head in Eames's lap, the older man gently pushing his hair back with one hand and continuing to rub out Arthur's headache with the other. She couldn't hear the faint whispers but knew they were soft reassurances. As unsettling as it had been to see the usually controlled Point Man so, well, out of control, she knew she was leaving him in good hands. _Funny, _she thought, _never thought I would see the day where those 'good hands' were Eames'._

She chuckled quietly to herself before standing and brushing the dirt off the knees of her jeans. _I still have a lot to finish,_ she thought tiredly as she started back to her models. She had been working for an hour or so when there came the noise of a door closing followed by a deadbolt slamming shut. _The new Extractor? _She watched as a tall woman with light hair and dark eyes examined the wide space. Noticing Ariadne, the newcomer gracefully approached.

"Where's Arthur?" she asked with a light Scandinavian accent.

"With his brother. Can I help you?" replied Ariadne, wishing one of the men would come out but knowing that neither probably would.

"Yes, I am here on a favor for Corporal Darling. Perhaps you, little girl, could fetch him for me."

"Well, that was extremely rude Sergeant Major Pain in my Ass," a voice rang out. Both women, including one extremely relieved Architect, turned to find Eames discreetly closing the door behind him and then leaning against it carelessly.

"Oh, Sergeant Eames, how I haven't missed you over the years. Now, where is Darling? This favor is to him and him alone. I haven't all day to stay and chat with you," the woman announced snidely.

"Let's get one thing straight Silje, I don't care if the favor is owed to him. You will be doing it for his team, our team," he said, gesturing to Ariadne. "You will not speak to him because it is your fault, bitch, that he became so addicted to this business in the first place. It is your fault for the, shall we say, complications, he has experienced." Eames was deceptively calm for someone who had just seen his brother go through what was essentially an Arthur-version of a mental breakdown.

She watched the woman stare at Eames, and Eames not giving in even the smallest amount. Silje nodded, going to the other end of the office block to start setting up her base of operations. Ariadne gently approached Eames, who was glaring at the Silje's back.

"That's her then?" Eames nodded.

"You're right; she is a bitch." Ariadne joined him in glaring for a few seconds before looking at the door at Eames' back, safely guarded by his broad torso.

"Arthur still in there?" she asked quietly.

A smile appeared. "Yup," he replied gleefully, "Sleeping like a baby."

Ariadne grinned in response. For all that they fought and teased each other, she doubted there was anything either wouldn't do for the other. After finding out about their military past, she had become privy to something few knew. They had gone through all the tough shit together; they were brothers. And though she was younger than both by more than a of couple years, she couldn't help but be proud of her boys.

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**_Thanks to all who have been reading, following, reviewing, and favoriting!_**

**_This is the final chapter. I hope you've enjoyed._**

**_As always, I would love to hear whatever you have to say._**

**_Happy writing!_**


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